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“God, when you talk all sweet l
ike that, I can’t help my heart from fluttering,” he teased.
He stepped closer. Between the staying at his place thing and the raw intensity in his gaze, it almost seemed like maybe he was caving after all. Maybe she wouldn’t have to actually spill personal details and they could just get down to what they did best.
He leaned in and said right against her forehead, “I was hoping you’d wear something special for me tonight.”
Hell yeah she would. This was looking to be more her speed than she hoped. Chloe smiled and nodded, so he took her hand and led her into the open kitchen. The island in the middle was crowded with ingredients and supplies. Gage picked up a lump of fabric and handed it to her.
She held it out in front of her. “You’ve got to be kidding. You want me to wear an apron?”
She glanced around—was this some kind of prank? All she saw was the simple studio, hardwood floors, the bed in the corner, and not another soul in the room to explain whatever the hell Gage was thinking.
“So let me get this straight,” she said. “You wanted a date, I gave you one. Then I asked you on one. Now you lure me to your place and have me cook for you? You realize I’m horrible at cooking.”
He picked up a second apron, fastened it around his waist, and walked behind the island. “No, I think you’re impatient.” He winked. “And I want to help you cook.”
“I run my own restaurant. I can manage just fine.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”
Damn. Busted. “What kind of help do you mean?”
“We’ll do it together. We can make a simple white sauce, pasta, and veggies.”
“Why?”
“Because cooking seems important to you.”
Those six words hit her chest hard and took root. He was doing it again. Paying attention to what she’d said, to her actions and desires. He was breaking through her walls—what was she supposed to do? The feelings he awakened in her were…complicated.
But she did want to learn something simple. Anything. Then maybe she wouldn’t feel like such a failure taking over her mother’s legacy. She also realized that Gage hadn’t said they’d make crab cakes. He’d picked something else they could make together. Which was thoughtful, because she wasn’t ready to fail in front of him or address some of the heartache that came with her mother’s memory.
But what she was ready for, and what her emotions were doing, were two different things. While part of her really didn’t want to go into anything painful about her mother, her past, or her mother’s past…the other part of her really did want to talk to Gage. Because she knew he’d be kind to her and listen.
Yeah…the forest was getting thick and Chloe was getting lost in the density of…emotions. Which was the exact opposite of the casual stance she was trying so hard to take.
What had Gage told her once? Assess the situation first? Yes, that was it exactly. Assess the situation. Keep her footing. Then…engage. Maybe she could take that step and give a little.
Chloe slipped the apron on and walked around the island beside him. “There’s not a lot of ingredients here. You’re going to make an entire sauce out of milk, butter, and flour?”
He nodded. “And parmesan and spices, but yeah, basically, that’s all it is.” He turned the stove on and set the butter in the pan. “Sometimes it’s about the process and heat, more than the ingredients.” He kissed her gently. So incredibly soft. She leaned in for a second—
And Gage pulled away. He threw her a sly smile as he picked up a mixing bowl, totally at ease with her. Was this how a couple behaved? Did they cook and spend time together?
She wasn’t sure, but she kind of liked it. The empty space in her chest didn’t hurt as bad tonight—but it’d hurt much more when Gage inevitably left that space gaping. No one stayed. Nothing was forever. Least of all a man with a higher calling.
“You ready to get your hands dirty, sweetheart?” he asked.
She looked at the counter full of ingredients in front of her, then the sexy man who was taking her world to a new level of uncomfortable.
If she had half a brain, she’d pull away now before she got in deeper. Instead, she edged a bit closer. “I think I am.”
He put the butter in the saucepan over low heat. Chloe looked in and saw the stick was barely melting. She went to turn up the burner, and Gage stopped her.
“Patience, sweetheart. It’ll get there, just give it a chance first.”
She folded her lips together and glanced at him. Slow and steady. Just like Gage. Melting butter and low heat that turned her into a puddle. Yep, the comparisons weren’t lost on her. Gage wanted them to simmer, she wanted them to ignite and burn up. Granted, simmering still got her hot. Only that level of hot lasted a lot longer than a flash in the pan. Pun totally intended.
